


Talk Me Into It

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Early Days, First Kiss, M/M, Mexico, Mystrade on vacation, Tequila, Toddler, holiday romance, mystrade, tan - Freeform, trunks - Freeform, turtle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 20:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Mycroft and Greg bump into each other on holiday. Neither of them expected their vacations to turn out this way, but neither are complaining.





	1. Tequila

**Author's Note:**

  * For [techomech](https://archiveofourown.org/users/techomech/gifts).

> This work is brought to you by the letter T found in the words Tequila, Trunks, Turtle, Tan and Toddler. This was all the prompt I got from techomech on Tumblr.

Mycroft settled on a stool at the end of the hotel bar, his book close at hand. The bartender nodded genially at him.

“What can I get you señor?”

“Cesar salad and a glass of chardonnay.”

The bartender moved off to place the order and Mycroft turned to observe the other patrons of the hotel restaurant. There were a smattering of tables still occupied. Mostly couples, but one table sat three people, father, mother and a rather surly looking adolescent. Mycroft felt a stab of pity for the boy.

He heard a person pull out a stool next to him. Vaguely annoyed he would need to share the space, Mycroft turned back around to see who dared.

“As I live and breathe, Mycroft Holmes?”

Mycroft quickly recovered from his surprise. “Detective Inspector Lestrade.” He greeted the man coolly, he hoped. The man was looking delightful and unimaginably handsome in his loose shirt and trousers.

“What brings you to sunny Mexico?” The Inspector made himself comfortable and grinned at Mycroft.

Mycroft smiled back. “Enforced annual leave. I generally don’t plan anything. My PA thought it would be amusing to send me to Cancun.” Mycroft grimaced slightly. “Not really my cup of tea, but I can read anywhere. I assume you are also on holiday?”

“Yeah, my wife booked this trip.”

There was an undercurrent of bitterness in Lestrade’s voice. ”But she is not with you.” Mycroft observed. The noted absence of the wedding band on Lestrade’s hand meant Mycroft wasn’t likely to see her.

“Nope.” Greg popped the “p” with obvious satisfaction. “We split months back, but I kept the trip. It was already paid for and I wasn’t going to let her enjoy it with the bloke she shacked up with.”

“Quite right.” Mycroft agreed readily.

“Mind if I join you?” There was a hopeful look in Greg’s eyes.

“No, not at all.” Mycroft found himself saying.

Greg turned to the bartender, who’d wandered over to check on Greg and deliver Mycroft’s wine. “Chips, salsa and guac and two glasses of your finest sipping tequila.”

“Añejo?” The bartender asked.

“Sí.”

“Lestrade…” Mycroft started.

“Greg,” He nudged Mycroft with his shoulder. “We’re on vacation.” Greg’s grin grew even brighter.

“Greg.” Mycroft agreed. “Tequila? That stuff is horrid.”

“You just need to learn how to drink tequila like a Mexican.”

“Drink like a Mexican?”

Two glasses appeared in front of them filled with an amber liquid. Greg lifted his glass. “Good tequila is aged—like a good scotch. It's meant to be sipped.” Greg looked pointedly at the glass still on the counter.

Mycroft sighed and raised his glass. “Not sure how you talked me into this,” he muttered.

“To unexpected friends in unexpected places.” Greg offered gleefully and clinked Mycroft’s glass.

Mycroft returned the smile cautiously. “Salud.”


	2. Trunks

“You’re kidding me right?” Greg stopped eating to stare at his tablemate.

Mycroft calmly sipped his morning tea. He’d already had some of the amazing fresh fruit and a yogurt, but the pastry on Greg’s plate looked rather tasty. He considered going to get one for himself.

“None? Not a pair of hiking shorts that might pass?”

“No.” Greg continued to look at Mycroft in disbelief. “In my defense I was only told to pack for warm weather.” Mycroft tried to explain.

“That always means a bathing suit.” Greg countered.

“Well there’s no hope for it now” Mycroft really wasn’t all that upset. He was perfectly happy to spend his days reading in the shade on the balcony and taking a walk in the late afternoon along the shore.

Greg grinned. “Now that’s where you’re wrong.” He began to apply himself to his huevos rancheros. “We are going to La Isla after breakfast and get you some proper trunks.”

“Lestrade, I do not want swim trunks.”

“Greg, and yes you do. Or you will.” He frowned at his plate. “I can’t eat all this. You want my concha?”

Mycroft shook his head reluctantly before replying. “Why are you so adamant I have swim trunks?”

Greg looked out the huge picture window they were seated by. The ocean sparkled in the sunshine. He turned back and smiled hesitantly. “I was going to ask you to come snorkeling with me tomorrow. Had booked it as part of the trip, so I have an extra ticket.” He shrugged and looked a bit bashful. “You’d need swim trunks though.”

Mycroft was stunned. “Well that’s very kind of you.”

“I’ve always wanted to go. Don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance again.” There was a wistful quality to Greg’s remarks.

Mycroft, who had no compunction saying no to the elite and powerful, found the idea of saying no to this man untenable. He sighed. “You’ve talked me into it.”

“Brilliant!” Greg positively glowed and Mycroft felt delighted to have been responsible for the man’s happy expression.“

“I suppose I’ll need something to keep my strength up if we’re going shopping.” He snagged the pastry from Greg’s plate. Their eyes met and Mycroft felt his cheeks begin to flush. He gave Greg a quick smile and started to eat the concha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La Isla is an upscale open air mall in Cancun.
> 
> A concha is a traditional Mexican pastry.


	3. Turtle

Mycroft swam over to the boat and caught hold of the low deck on the back of the craft. He shoved the mask off his face, wiping the salty water away. It was stunning, the reef. He almost felt overwhelmed by the colors and sea life. Keeping one arm on the deck he turned to look out over the water marking the other snorkelers in the party. Suddenly a person surfaced next to him spouting water from their snorkel.

Greg spat out his mouthpiece to grin at Mycroft.

“Did you see it, the sea turtle?” Greg asked excitedly.

Mycroft grinned back at him. “Yes, I did.”

“Wasn’t he magnificent?” Greg gushed. “I’d no idea how big they were. Or I did, but I didn’t, you know?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know they start off as carnivores and then become omnivores and eventually most are herbivores?” Greg sighed happily and looked out over the sparkling ocean.

Mycroft found himself entranced by Greg’s enthusiasm. He shifted closer as another couple in their party climbed up into the boat.

“I know I’ve said this before but thank you for coming with me.” Greg turned back to look at Mycroft.

“Thank you for talking me into joining you. It’s not something I would have chosen to do on my own. Anthea will faint when I tell her.”

Greg laughed and Mycroft didn’t think anything would be more beautiful than the reef below them, except he now knew he was wrong.

“You want to go out one more time?”

“Certainly.” Mycroft started to clear his mask and snorkel.

“Oh, hang on. Let me check your back.”

Mycroft turned and felt Greg’s warm hands ghost over his shoulders. Greg called up to someone on deck and Mycroft felt strong fingers begin to rub in sunscreen along his upper back and neck. “Just a few more freckles, but no signs of sunburn.”

Mycroft heard a thunk as the sunscreen tube hit the boat deck. He turned around to see Greg’s dark eyes now nearly black. Mycroft licked his lips, tasting the salty water.

“Thank you.”

“I promised you wouldn’t get sunburned.”

Mycroft looked away, suddenly feeling shy. He finished readying his gear. “Shall we?” he said when he was done.

Greg lowered his mask. “Yeah.”


	4. Tan

“It’s truly unfair.” Mycroft muttered. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, leaning on the balcony railing. The last of the sun’s rays were beginning to dim.

“What is?” Greg sipped his beer.

“Look at this.” Mycroft nudged Greg’s forearm with his own. “How are you tan after just a few days? This is most I could hope for after a week--a few more freckles and not brunt to a crisp.”

“Mediterranean blood from my French grandparents, I suppose.”

“I suspect a Moorish heritage as well in there.”

“Could be. Whereas you, I wager, are descended from Irish kings.”

Mycroft snorted. “Yes, but it wasn’t much of a kingdom—a few acres of windswept gorse and rocks.”

Their arms still lay close together. Mycroft could feel the warmth of Greg’s skin tingling along his arm. The proximity of the other man was unsettling and intoxicating. The sounds of the surf and seabirds floated up from the shore.

“So what time is your flight?” Greg asked after a moment. He took another swig of his beer.

Mycroft pulled a face. “Early.”

“Too early for breakfast?”

“Mm… I was going to order room service to have as I finish packing.”

“Ah…” Silence fell again, this time less comfortable. Greg finished his drink. “I should let you get some sleep.”

He turned to face Mycroft and Mycroft did the same. It surprised him how close Greg was, much closer than he’d expected.

“You don’t have to go yet.” Mycroft murmured. His heart was beginning to skip in his chest.

“No?” Greg’s dark eyes searched Mycroft’s face.

“No.”

“Can I tell you something Mycroft?” Greg’s voice was husky and soft.

“Yes.”

“I had such a great time with you.”

“I had a wonderful time with you too.”

“There’s just one thing I want to do before you leave Mexico.”

“What’s that?” Mycroft’s eyes flickered down to look at Greg’s mouth, hoping.

“May I kiss you?”

“I rather wish you would.”

Greg leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Mycroft’s mouth. Mycroft melted into the warmth and wound his arms around Greg’s neck. After a long moment they parted, panting. Greg buried his face in Mycroft’s neck nibbling and licking.

“Stay the night.” Mycroft gasped.

“You talked me into it.” Greg replied.


	5. Toddler

Mycroft’s eyes popped open. The curtains over the sliding glass doors swayed gently in the early morning breeze. The ocean crashed just beyond. On his last night he gave in to the decadence of sleeping with the doors open.

He sat up and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. Slowly stretching his neck and shoulders, Mycroft attempted to remove the last traces of sleep. A sneeze snuck up on him.

“Bless you.” A low voice rumbled behind him. Warm fingers trailed down his bare back creating goose bumps in their wake. “Come back to bed. You’ll catch cold.” The fingers found an elbow and tugged Mycroft back down.

Smiling, Mycroft allowed himself to be pulled back into the bed. He rolled to face Greg. “You know it doesn’t work that way.” Mycroft chided gently.

Greg’s smile was sleepy and fond. His hair stuck out in a wild, spiky mess. “Got you back in bed.”

Mycroft reached out to tame the silver strands. “Can’t stay.”

Greg pouted. “Five more minutes,” he whined.

“Fine. Five more minutes.”

“Yay!”

Mycroft chuckled. “You’re like a spoiled toddler.”

Greg squirmed into Mycroft’s arms to rest on his lover’s chest. He petted the ginger chest hair with soothing strokes. “I feel like a toddler. I don’t want you to go.”

They lay quiet for a moment just holding each other, caressing, before their lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

Greg sighed as they parted. Mycroft watched him open his eyes. They were dark and unfathomable. Greg bit his lip. “Well, Mr. Holmes, is this it?” Mycroft blinked suddenly unsure. Greg’s hand touched Mycroft’s cheek and then brushed down his shoulder and arm. “Does all of this stay here in Mexico?”

“Do you want it to?” Mycroft asked carefully, his heart aching.

Greg laughed. “God, no. You’re amazing—funny, gorgeous, inventive…” Greg winked. “Not to mention brilliant. I’d love this to continue.”

“But?” Mycroft murmured.

“But you’re way out of my league.” Greg smiled ruefully. “I’m just a boring, old copper.”

“You’re kind, generous, attentive and devastatingly handsome.”

“Yeah, well, I’m on holiday. You should see me after a long day chasing criminals or worse, filling out reports.” Greg grimaced.

“I would like that very much.” Mycroft watched Greg’s expression as he realized Mycroft wasn’t kidding. He never knew eyes so dark could fill up with such light.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Mycroft kissed Greg treasuring the taste and feel of his lover’s lips. He reveled in the passionate return of his affection. “Think about it,” he said as they parted. “I’ll meet you at the airport. You can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Greg shook his head. “I don’t need to think about it.”

“Don’t tell me.” Mycroft’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve talked you into it.”


End file.
